dance of hearts ~

Amina

Amina Malik stood before her mirror, her reflection blurred through the tears threatening to spill. The soft, fragrant scent of jasmine from her mother's garden drifted in through the open window, mixing with the faint sound of her father's voice as he argued with her mother downstairs. Another match had been found for her—a perfect man, they said. A man who had everything her parents wanted for her: status, respectability, and a future as secure as the walls of their family home.

Her reflection wasn't what she saw. It was the weight of her heart that made her feel heavy, like she was suffocating beneath the layers of expectation. The person staring back at her wasn't the girl who longed to dance—who dreamed of the stage, of freedom—but a woman molded by her family's desires. Every inch of her life had been mapped out, every moment controlled.

"Maa, abbu ke saath baat kar lo. Mein kuch nahin kar sakti," Amina whispered under her breath in Urdu, her voice trembling. "Kya mein apni zindagi jeene ke liye unka dil toad doon?"

She couldn't do it. She couldn't disappoint her parents, no matter how much her own heart screamed. Yet the dream of dancing, the rhythm she felt pulsing in her veins, refused to fade.

That dream hadn't faded since she was a child. The music, the beats, the freedom of her own body swaying to a rhythm no one could control—it had always been her escape. But here, in the reality of her family's world, dancing was as forbidden as the forbidden love her heart was starting to feel.

A knock on the door broke her thoughts, her mother's voice soft yet stern. "Amina, beta, I've set the table for dinner. Your father wants to discuss something important."

Her stomach churned. Dinner with her father meant more discussions about her future, more talk of marriage proposals. They always seemed to come at the worst times.

"Dads, always the same," Amina muttered under her breath in English, shaking her head. "They never understand."

She wiped her face quickly, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to betray her. Gathering her thoughts, she walked toward the door, forcing a smile that never reached her eyes.

In the dining room, her father sat at the head of the table, his stern expression softened only by the presence of his wife beside him. They both looked at Amina as she entered, and her heart squeezed in her chest. She could see the unspoken expectation in their eyes—the hope that she would say yes to this new match, this man they believed would make her life perfect.

"Beta," her father said, his voice low but commanding. "This proposal is from a family we've known for years. Shahid is a good man. He will take care of you. His family is well respected. We've spoken with them, and they're eager to meet you."

Amina's mind raced. She glanced at her mother, who gave her a gentle nod, encouraging her to accept. The weight of tradition pressed down on her shoulders like an anchor dragging her to the bottom of the sea.

"Aur tum khush rahogi," her mother added softly in Urdu. "Humare liye, tumhari khushi sab se zaroori hai."

( and you'll be happy, for us ur happiness is the most important)

Amina swallowed, trying to stop the tears from spilling over. Her mother's words echoed in her mind, but they didn't soothe her— they weighed her down. Her happiness? Wasn't that hers to choose?

As her father continued speaking, Amina's mind drifted again to that moment. The first time she saw rohaan sikander. The first time she heard his music—deep, soulful, full of pain and passion. She had been at a wedding, hiding in the corner, trying to escape the endless chatter of well-meaning aunts and uncles.

And then, like an unexpected spark in the night, Rohaan's eyes met hers. She had been taken aback by the raw intensity in his gaze. The music that poured from his guitar wasn't just notes—it was a story, a life, something she wanted to know.

But how could she? How could she ever betray her family like that? "Amina, shaadi se pehle yeh sab mumkin nahi." Her father's words echoed in her mind.

( amina before marriage all of this is not possible )

"Shahid's family is a good match," her father repeated, pulling her back to reality. "Think about it, beta. We've already agreed on the terms."

Her heart squeezed again. She didn't want this. She didn't want this man, this future. She wanted the freedom to choose—freedom to dance, to live.

"Dil ka jo haq hai, woh koi nahin samajhta," Amina whispered to herself in Urdu, too quiet for anyone else to hear.

( the hearts rights no will understand ) 

As her father continued, the words blurred in her mind. All she could think of was the dance, the pull of the music, the ache in her chest when she remembered Idris's eyes. How she wanted to break free, to find herself in a world outside of this one.

But was it possible? Could she choose herself without breaking her family's heart? And in the silence of the room, she realized that whatever choice she made, her world would never be the same again.